


Made of sugar

by LieutenantCommando



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Emotional Manipulation, Fanart, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Human Pennywise (IT), M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25188823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LieutenantCommando/pseuds/LieutenantCommando
Summary: With love, from Robert.Bill read the small note while paying attention to the curls each handwritten letter made. It was a neat style, very elegant and sophisticated. It told tales of how much practice it required to achieve such refined state and Bill’s writer mind couldn’t help but add more details to the man that had been sending him gifts for the past few months.--A sugar relationship of sorts.Art is mine.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Pennywise, Bill Denbrough/Robert "Bob" Gray
Comments: 35
Kudos: 129





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is extremely self indulgent and is basically my take on how those two would work in a sugar relationship. Set in modern times!
> 
> Bless all my friends for being so supportive and awesome, in special Tiigi, who also edited this!
> 
> And now this piece has a Russian translation, by my lovely friend Sakurairo! [Check it out! ](https://ficbook.net/readfic/10290282?fbclid=IwAR2COjd1LnwikcOFW9W7kgEuMi0y2khwPusRe7PRbKN1I7-eKjomY42MHwU)

.

.

.

_With love, from Robert._

Bill read the small note while paying attention to the curls each handwritten letter made. It was a neat style, very elegant and sophisticated. It told tales of how much practice it required to achieve such refined state and Bill’s writer mind couldn’t help but add more details to the man that had been sending him gifts for the past few months.

A nobleman, wearing a very stylish suit came into his imagination. Sharp cheekbones adorned his face and he surely would belong to a narrative made in old times. Perhaps he would be a doctor, an attorney, quite possibly an engineer or some other career that allowed him to accumulate a considerable fortune, and it couldn’t be far away from the actual reality, not when Bill’s pile of presents exceeded thousands of dollars.

His phone was living proof of such wealth, just like many of his clothes and food and even part of his tuition.

He didn’t take pride in it, though. At least, a part of his mind would still complain whenever Robert found it appropriate to mail him surprises and pamper the one he so liked to call “little buddy”.

As much as the gifts were extravagant, always from the best brands, never costing what a mere mortal could afford, they were never useless. Some, like the jewelry, could be considered capricious, but Bill knew they had been chosen especially for him. Robert always had the trouble of going after things that he thought Bill would appreciate, and so, even if Bill didn’t wear them, he kept all the ornaments.

With a sigh, the note was left right inside a drawer, along with the many others Robert had sent his way, dating all the way back when their unusual relationship began.

Bill had been a struggling university student, as many others across the world.

Coming from a rotting family, with his father succumbing to alcohol and debts and his mother unable to overcome her grief over the loss of their youngest son, Bill found himself growing up with almost no back up.

All his childhood friends took their paths and Bill, armed by only his desire of writing, English skills and spite, also decided to shape a path of his own.

A degree was not a cheap adventure, he knew that, but even with a part time job it was proving to be difficult, if not nearly impossible, to pay for an education. It became even worse when Bill started to receive awful grades simply for not sticking to the professor’s preferred genre; if before he was having trouble keeping up with the tight schedule of working and studying time, with his motivation dulled, his days became grey.

However, writing, alongside drawing, still remained his passion and it was on a whim that the idea came.

Bill always had a presence online, although a small one. Scrolling through social media, watching random videos and movies, talking to some fellow horror lovers was what he usually did, but once he started to share his own creations, the possibility of creating engagement and unwind presented itself.

He made some acquaintances, realized that his work wasn’t as pointless as his teacher and classmates wanted to paint it to be, and met him.

Thinking back, Bill still has no idea how Robert even found his profile, but ever since the beginning the man, who had not even a single picture of himself online and identified as Mr. Gray, made sure to show how much he appreciated everything Bill dared to post in his account.

Endearing, uplifting, and it only helped how Mr. Gray engaged in any type of discussion Bill proposed, showing that their interests aligned greatly.

As time passed, Bill drifted more and more to that man that was equally an incognito and a friend. Talking to him was comforting, Bill also found his comments funny, smart, at times snarky, and without even realizing he started to value Mr. Gray’s opinions and presence, even if it only resumed to beeps from his phone.

The exact occasion when the gifting started was actually on Bill’s birthday. By demand, he figured that sending his online friend an address for a harmless card wouldn’t entail in anything else, but was he shocked when a cellphone worth more than months of his entire paycheck arrived, sitting innocently in a box, surrounded by rose petals and a note revealing Mr. Gray’s first name.

He couldn’t accept that, but neither could Robert, using the argument that a professional phone like that would do wonders to Bill’s life. He wasn’t exaggerating and Bill hadn’t the heart to sell such an expensive gift, but by then he was still unaware that with this simple fact, he had opened the door for more packages to arrive.

Presents strictly sent on important holidays started to come without any real important date behind, adorning Bill’s dormitory room, painting supplies and even body.

Robert never really asked for anything in return, only throwing some suggestions here and there of not wishing to remain as just friends. He never pressed when this specific topic was diverted, instead, he welcomed the pressure for meeting in real life that Bill was starting to create.

It was understandable, after all, even after all the late conversations, built trust and pampering, Robert Gray was still a faceless character, a man inhabiting Bill’s imagination and taking any shape that his avid imagination saw fitting.

It felt wrong to have someone as important as Robert, whose actions had affected Bill’s life so directly, be a stranger. He wanted to properly meet the man.

In his mind, a simple walk would suffice. An afternoon in a library, a park, some nice restaurant or a bar. Robert decided to invite him to one of the fanciest places all around town, a chinese establishment famous for its food.

Bill recognized the plan; Robert wanted to pay for everything, spoil him all over again, but Bill went prepared with money of his own and a polite denial.

It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy being pampered, he only planned on creating limits and boundaries.

* * *

The place seemed like an old monument, all decorated with statues glowing like gold and plants that recreated the atmosphere of a serene temple.

Bill had seen pictures and read comments of said restaurant, but it was the first time he was actually stepping inside, feeling slightly overwhelmed by all the glamour and grace staff and patrons alike carried themselves with.

Upon mentioning the name of his companion, Bill was guided through the saloon, stopping by a secluded table where a man with ginger hair was waiting.

“Rob,” The nickname slipped out and suddenly Bill felt awkward, not sure if he really had the right to act like that, for even though, technically, they had known each other for many months, maybe their online intimacy didn’t translate to real life.

Robert, however, smiled slyly, placing his phone on the table and then getting up. He wore some expensive suit that fit all his angles beautifully and as he stepped closer, pushing the chair so Bill could sit, their height difference became more than evident.

“Little buddy,” Bill felt a chill going down his spine as the hot breath hit the shell of his ear. He couldn’t see it, but imagined that Robert’s smile never left his face. ”So, am I the way you’ve been picturing?” He asked after going back to his place, catching Bill’s eyes and seeming very at ease.

The aura of calmness coming from him started to affect Bill, who was slowly losing all his previous tension.

“S-Sorta...” However, a small hiccup with his stutter and his confidence was spiralling through his fingers, but Robert didn’t seem bothered, instead tilting his head, curious.

“How so?”

“You aren’t a creepy old m-man,” A heartbeat of silence before Robert was laughing.

“Well, I’m not old,” He said, an eyebrow rising suggestively and then Bill was the one laughing, the mood melting and warming.

“I never imagined you with light hair, nor so tall,” Bill took a sip from the water recently poured and watched Robert’s handsome face being sculpted by the lights all around. He could easily be a model, even with his lazy eye.

“I didn’t come up with your nickname out of thin air,” He winked and Bill felt his cheeks redden, even more aware of the fact that their body types differed greatly.

Aiming to divert the topic, Bill grabbed the first thing floating in his mind.

“W-Why don’t you ever post pictures of yourself?”

“It would’ve spoiled the whole suspense, wouldn’t it, Billy?” Robert seemed to not tire of watching Bill, barely blinking, barely paying attention to anything else.

“It would have made me trust you sooner.”

“Perhaps… But perhaps not. It would certainly have stopped you from thinking about me as much.”

He was right. Bill had lost count of all the uncountable hours he wasted imagining and daydreaming with the man. Now that they had finally met, it felt like a fantasy taking form, becoming reality.

Robert surely looked like an aristocrat, but contrary to his speculations, the man was proving to be even more handsome than what his mind had invented.

“Your evil plan worked,” Bill confessed and Robert smiled, all teeth and mirth.

“I know.”

Between conversation and banter, they ordered some traditional dishes, using the time in their hands to keep talking, Bill trying to patch the holes in Robert’s background and know more about him.

“You worked with show business?” The surprise of finding such information made Bill widen his eyes in a lovely fashion.

“Detective Denbrough, ladies and gentlemen,” Robert seemed genuinely impressed.

“Wait… You’re famous, aren’t you?...” Bill whispered as realization shone upon him.

Robert raised his blue eyes, a naughty smile slowly framing his lips.

“Am I?” If the question was meant as a challenge or to earn some laughs, Bill couldn’t tell.

“Yeah, you’re Pennywise, the dancing clown,” The character that used to be all around children’s entertainment a few years prior.

Bill remembered watching many episodes of the clown’s show with his brother. Georgie loved Pennywise to bits, collecting every single toy and stationery that had his trademark smile and red balloon printed on it.

After the incident, however, Bill never once dared to watch the character again.

“Clever. You’ve got a good memory, little buddy,” Robert leaned a bit over the table. “I no longer perform, though. Retired years ago.”

“I thought you liked that life,” And all the fame and money that surely came with it.

Robert laughed quietly, taking a sip from his rum.

“Yes, but I wanted more. A young public could only take me so far,” He rested his hand dangerously close to Bill’s, their fingertips touching. Bill didn’t move away. “I’ve been getting political, creating connections… And happened to stumble on this angry writing student online.”

Bill couldn’t help but smile, remembering how basically all of his posts had a complaint about his university life and its misfortunes.

“It was adorable seeing him going from that to a confident artist,” Robert’s hand slowly ventured above Bill’s, the touch light. Yet again he didn't shy away and this was taken as a green light, Robert rubbing their fingers together before the contact was broken with their food arrival.

Dinner then progressed amidst more friendly conversation and promises of another meeting.

Robert's personality, Bill found out, was even brighter than what his messages let on; the man was playful, incredibly smart and it was difficult to not feel drawn to him, especially when they were so close, speaking face to face.

By the time they asked for the tab, Bill was wishing they could spend at least a few more hours together.

“Oh no, little buddy, you’re the guest here,” Robert tried to gently dismiss Bill’s attempt to fish for his wallet. “I could never.”

“But I want to,” He contested, drawing a line on sand. “You’re always gifting me, so I-”

“Because I like to,” Robert interrupted, sounding a bit more serious. “You deserve all the nice things, little one,” His hand crossed the table and held Bill’s again. “Let me.”

The waiter came and a pointed look was exchanged before Bill finally conceded, earning a happy smile and a weird, heavy sensation settling at the bottom of his stomach.

Robert offered to drive him back then, guiding Bill to where the chauffeur would be parking his car.

An expensive model, Bill noted, covered by a shiny black paint that made it even more elegant.

Luxury clearly laced every tiny part of Robert’s life and he seemed to want to do the same with Bill’s, but as tempting as the idea was, it didn’t seem fair; Bill wanted to obtain things through his own efforts, not by being handed everything, though, denying Robert was proving to be a difficult task.

“We can go wherever you want next time,” The car navigated through considerably empty streets, following the address typed in the GPS.

“Really?” Considering how all his suggestions had been vehemently denied in favor of the chinese restaurant, Bill allowed himself some distrust.

“Pinky promise,” Robert offered said finger, which was enough to break the bitter feeling holding Bill’s heart and he smiled, accepting the childish way of vowing.

“T-Then the park.”

“As you wish. You could bring a canvas or your sketchbook too, let your inner painter run free,” The suggestion wasn’t bad, actually. “Pick you up tomorrow? In the afternoon?”

Seeing that it was a Saturday and they had tentatively talked about it during dinner, Bill agreed, only then noticing that they were already parking right outside his building. The trip was short, more so than anticipated.

“Great,” Robert said, satisfied, watching as his companion unbuckled and prepared to leave the vehicle. “Little buddy,” He called, stopping Bill by touching his shoulder, locking gazes before slowly leaning in, kissing the corner of his mouth in a soft press. “See you tomorrow.”

Bill could only agree dumbly, stepping out of the car while butterflies fluttered all around his stomach.

* * *

“Draw me like one of your French girls,” Robert whispered near Bill’s ear, getting up from the bench they shared and going to stand near some bushes, hands inside pockets and a winning expression adorning his face as Bill laughed, his cheeks extremely warm and red.

“S-Shut up,” Bill found it in himself to complain, grabbing his phone to take pictures of all the poses his newest model was doing.

The first couple ones were purely for a laugh, but as Robert started to take it seriously and looked to the camera, to Bill, the mood changed, becoming more serious, more tantalizing.

The idea of using Robert to pose and serve as a guide for sketches came from the man himself. Bill had no reasons to oppose, he just didn’t expect the moment to become so intimate.

“You s-should be a model, for real, I mean,” He suggested in a small voice, keeping his head down and eyes locked on his sketchbook, suddenly too shy to face Robert.

“I think you’re way more fitting for that than I, little buddy,” The man replied with ease, walking back to where Bill sat, watching as he took hold of some art supplies, testing a few before deciding on a sepia colored pencil.

“I’m just the backstage guy,” Bill said simply, his eyes still glued on the empty page before long fingers touched his chin, forcing him to pay attention to Robert’s unreadable face.

“Not to me,” They were so close that it was possible to see the golden strips coloring Robert’s eyes. Likewise, Bill knew the other man could even count the freckles on his skin if he wanted to.

Treacherously, his eyes started to slip down, pulled by some unknown force to Robert’s lips, the same ones that had almost stolen a full kiss in the previous night and that now rested so tempting close.

Just a small movement and they would be sharing each other’s warmth.

However, before Bill could take and use his courage, Robert closed the gap and kissed his forehead, fingers creating a gentle, if not somewhat desperate massage throughout his jaw.

“You’re way more special than what you believe, little one, ”He whispered after a few long seconds, stepping back. “I’ll go get us something to eat,” And like that, Robert left, Bill’s butterflies raging inside his stomach.

He had never been good with this type of matter, the romantic one. Even in his area of expertise -fiction, where his ideas ran wild- Bill fled the topic, preferring to soak his works with angst, gore and the obscure.

However, it would be a blatant lie if Bill said that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind at least once; what if their relationship went past the subtle line of friendship, what if he in fact acted on all the suggestions Robert made about crossing said line...?

Robert came back with some pastries and the idea stayed as just that, hiding in the corner of Bill’s brain, buried by insecurities.

“Is this me?” Robert pointed to the beginning of a sketch, passing Bill a croissant, not paying attention to how close they were, their thighs touching, their shoes clinking together.

“Hopefully,” Bill set the pencil aside, not protesting when Robert motioned to hold his sketchbook, trading it for a smoothie.

In silence, he observed his drawings being flipped by his curious companion. As any artist, there were some pretty embarrassing things hidden among the pages, but Robert never made a comment, instead, he focused on a message written in a very poor calligraphy right in the first page.

“Who’s Richie?” He asked, puzzled by the purposefully ugly drawing that accompanied the rather rude note involving Bill’s buttocks and this Richie’s face.

Bill almost choked, but recovered fast.

“A-An old friend,” He explained, a small smile showing. “We lost touch before university, but I heard he’s doing fine with standups,” Talking about his past stung a bit, for it held some loose ends.

“I didn’t know you used your sketchbook as a place for friend’s messages...” There was an annoyed nuance in his words, but it was gone before Bill could fully grasp it. “May I, little buddy?” He grabbed the pencil, waiting for permission before going back to where his drawing was being made.

Bill tried to see what was being written, not so subtly leaning close only to have his vision blocked by Robert hunching over it.

“No spying, Billy boy.”

Bill laughed quietly, returning to his seat and throwing away all the scrap from his now eaten meal in the nearest trash can.

“There, so you can remember today,” Robert announced once finished, but he kept the sketchbook closed, the mystery of his note only growing. “Promise me you will only read it later.”

“I promise,” Bill said back, their eyes meeting while Robert finally allowed Bill to take the object back. “I suppose I can’t keep drawing anymore...?”

“You can, but wouldn’t you rather trade it for some quality time with me?” Robert offered, a playful smile adorning his face as Bill made his decision.

The sketchbook returned to his backpack.

“Good boy,” Robert teased and Bill, cheeks burning, lightly bumped their shoulders before getting up, mumbling some insult jokingly.

The rest of the afternoon was spent visiting nearby stores, feeding doves and talking, laughing, getting even closer.

In a way, Bill felt like his relationship with Robert in real life wasn’t the same they cultivated online; it was fuller, closer, warmer, which came as a shock, since he had already deemed Robert as the closest person he'd ever had. Being shown that a bond with someone could become even more meaningful was a new concept that Bill was slowly grasping.

“Would you fancy dinner, little buddy?” The invitation came after sunset had settled, painting the sky with dark shades of pink and red, marking the beginning of night.

“Sure,” Bill shrugged, adding as an afterthought: “But no expensive restaurants.”

Robert sent him a quizzical look.

“Didn’t you enjoy last night?” For Bill could’ve only said that with their previous experience in mind.

Robert slowly stopped walking then, his companion following and soon they were both standing in a corner, shielded from curious passersby by a tree.

Bill worried his bottom lip, breaking eye contact.

“T-That’s not it, I just wanted something more… Me,” He raised his shoulders momentarily, feeling somewhat silly for saying such a thing, but it wasn’t far away from the truth: Bill wanted to at least be able to afford his own meals.

After a while, Robert showed a smile.

“Of course,” With a light touch to Bill’s cheek, he managed to break the seemingly tense atmosphere that had raised. “Whatever you want, little one.”

It seemed like a small achievement, a tiny boundary being established, but it was enough to leave Bill content for the remainder of their time together.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay, omg, but at the same time, bless u'all for the love! All the comments, kudos & bookmarks made me super happy <3
> 
> Thanks Tiigi for editing this and being so awesome! Thanks everyone who aided me during this fic, you have a special place in my heart!
> 
> Beware: this is VERY mushy and the drawing took longer than it should.

Running the tips of his fingers over Robert’s message engraved in his sketchbook, Bill could feel graphite slightly smudging the corners of a few curly letters, also leaving his skin painted with gray.

The note itself was small, simple, Robert’s way of leaving behind proof that they had indeed been together for a full afternoon and two nights, as though Bill could ever forget finally meeting the one who had so profoundly changed his life and perspectives.

Bill had never been an avid reader of romances and genres related to it, but from the small contact he did have with media depicting said relationships, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to compare their outings to scenes found in such things. As embarrassing as it could be.

Bill found himself almost enamored by Robert’s short and thankful message right next to his finished drawing– it was awakening in Bill a sort of emotion that he couldn’t quite understand nor explain; it was there, at the bottom of his stomach, tingling in his hands, awakening the butterflies in his stomach and making them fly in all possible directions.

It was the same “something” that kept him from deleting Robert’s pictures and instead looking at them for more time than social convention would deem respectable. It was what sprouted more topics to be discussed with Robert during the nights that marked the week following their meeting, texts being exchanged until an indecent hour that left both tired the next morning, but content, satisfied.

Robert, as Bill came to find out, didn’t live in his city. He had traveled with the single purpose of meeting Bill during his only peaceful weekend before needing to dive right back into work. Many of his hours were spent inside planes, as the pictures sent to Bill were showing, and then in beautiful cities and meeting rooms.

It was a routine that Bill couldn’t relate to, but he understood the pressure of being constantly busy, especially when his academic deadlines were dangerously approaching and he had yet to finish essays and projetcs.

Their relationship was still almost exclusively online, but now, somehow, it felt more intimate. Maybe it was because of photos, short videos and audios being swapped, or how the veil of mystery that surrounded Robert had been lifted.

Bill liked it. The feeling residing in his core clamoured for more, but it still felt like stepping into unknown territory and he wasn’t ready to admit that maybe things wouldn’t work out as he was hoping for; Robert was a celebrity, an obscure and maybe faded one, but he had a reputation and his life already tailored in luxury and business, while Bill was struggling to even start his career.

Those were almost baseless doubts, Bill knew, since Robert had reassured him plenty about how much he was proud of his achievements and creations, but nudging out all his insecurities was a long, arduous work.

For the time being, Bill decided to allow himself to simply live in the moment.

And so the days went, the end of the semester arriving rather quickly, cutting his available hours and making Robert worry about his mental and physical health.

Random gifts would sprout by Bill’s doorstep, little things aiming to make him smile and survive the chaotic ordeal that his weeks were becoming, one in particular drawing all his attention.

It was a handmade coupon offering a prize for all the effort and stress he had to endure, a trip completely paid to another state, where Robert’s house was located.

“Is this for real?” Bill texted as soon as he got the chance, not needing to wait long for a response, though every second felt like a whole minute.

“If you want to.”

It was one of the things Bill had been wanting to earn, not simply seeing where Robert lived, but being invited to it, to his private life, to where he kept all his things and felt at ease after a long day.

It had been years since he felt so close to someone that this simple act filled his eyes with tears, and before he could think too much, his fingers were already typing a positive answer, the text being sent as a feeling of belonging settled in his heart.

Only later the thought of at least splitting the expenses crossed his mind, to which Robert answered with a promise of talking about it later.

* * *

To put it simply, Robert’s house came straight from the pages of a fairy tale.

It resembled a castle, or perhaps a big cottage, but it certainly held the charm old houses had, with its brick walls, huge windows, plants adorning many corners, trees surrounding the area and a pond at walking distance.

Bill could only stare from the car as they approached, finding the place mysterious and delightful, imagining that he’d use a house just like that in some of his horror books.

It looked perfect for gruesome crimes, especially since it was in a secluded area.

“What do you think?” Robert asked while parking, eyeing Bill with genuine curiosity.

“That your home is beautiful,” Bill decided that sharing his musings about fictitious murderers wouldn’t add to the mood, but something about the way Robert arched his eyebrows revealed that he knew Bill wasn’t being entirely truthful.

Maybe it was because Robert knew how Bill’s mind worked, given how much they talked and shared, or maybe it was the small smile that betrayed it all.

They then stepped on a stony path, walking side by side until Robert reached the main door, unlocking it and letting Bill go first.

“Welcome, little one,” He said, bending exaggeratedly and earning a laugh.

Even though the exterior seemed old, the insides were modern, albeit a little rustic.

Bill felt lost for a while, eyes wandering through the impressive quantity of things adorning the living room. Robert was a hoarder, that much was clear.

“I keep mementos of every place I go,” He explained after noticing Bill’s gaze lingering on his belongings. “Most were fan’s gifts.”

“Do you keep everything people give you?” Bill refrained from touching the many trinkets, as curious as he was.

“Only the memorable ones,” Robert gave Bill a glass of wine, serving himself some rum. “Like your letters, I’ve kept them all.”

This didn’t come as a surprise, but Bill felt his insides warm, a smile spreading all over his face.

“But I’m not your fan,” He pointed out, taking a sip from his drink, feeling Robert stepping close, so much that it was possible to feel his warmth. Bill didn’t move away.

“No,” Robert whispered, voice hoarse, almost breaking in the edges as his eyes fell to Bill’s lips, “You’re way more than that.”

The movement was graceful: Robert bent and closed the gap between them, pressing their mouths together in a soft fashion, only daring to open his lips when he felt Bill wasn’t backing away.

Bill tasted of wine and a faint flavor that could be only his. To Robert, in his feverish and filled with passion mind, it was sweet and addicting, a taste he wanted to carry to his own mouth and memories.

They parted after a while, locking gazes, trying to communicate silently. The desperate ardour gleaming in their eyes was enough; glasses were carelessly set aside as another kiss carried them to the nearby sofa, both sitting among cushions, sliding into a comfortable position where kisses and caresses could be exchanged.

“I’ve been waiting for this, for you...” Robert said huskily, whispering against Bill’s skin as he broke down into small kisses all over his little one’s face, from his warm forehead to his flecked cheeks, every press of lips more reverent than the previous ones.

Bill opened his eyes then, holding Robert’s face with a gentle hand, wanting his attention, wanting to show how open and raw he was feeling.

“Have you?” Bill’s insecurities came to light, constricting his throat and making his eyes glossy. He didn’t want to tear up, especially in such an intimate time, but he needed to know; was it all only a game for Robert?

Sensing the importance of the question Robert sat up, but his hands never left Bill, as if he couldn’t bring himself to not touch the other.

“I dreamt of you...” His voice came in a soft, breathy purr. “I craved you...” Robert started to rub his thumb all along Bill’s jaw, sometimes catching his plump bottom lip, “I’ve missed you ever since we first met...”

Muttered like this, in their secluded little moment, Robert felt as exposed as Bill did. He sounded genuine, so much that he earned Bill’s trust, and with it, a small kiss.

The chaste touch remained modest, Robert encouraging Bill to touch him, sighing when soft fingers gained confidence, sliding through his hair and nape and back, kneading at the muscles hidden by a shirt.

“Want to go upstairs?” Robert mumbled, his entire body filled with anticipation and passion.

“I t-thought you’d never ask,” Bill whispered with a smile, a laugh escaping when Robert mockingly bit into his neck at his boldness.

“Kiss me, Billy boy,” And Bill did, doubts all forgotten.

* * *

As anticipated, Robert’s room was cluttered with things, although Bill hadn’t the time nor the presence of mind to notice more than a wall filled with photographs and a balcony, all his attention stolen by the sinful mouth that trailed down his bare neck.

“Can I?” Robert asked with his fingers already in the process of divesting Bill of his shirt, playing with the hem.

“Yeah,” Was the almost wordless response, the short sound nearly turning into a whimper as Robert traveled his hands up -so big that they could embrace Bill’s ribcage effortlessly- pushing the fabric until tender skin could be seen and appreciated by his hungry eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” Robert breathed, bracing against the mattress to lick Bill’s belly, eliciting a few giggles and squirming.

“It t-tickles,” Bill told him, more laughter bubbling out as his sensitive stomach was insistently touched, Robert even gently sinking his teeth on some spots and blowing raspberries that made Bill urgently reach down and hold Robert’s head at a safe distance or else he would be crying out of laughter.

“A-Asshole,” Because Robert was a major one and needed to know that.

“But yours, yeah?” He replied without missing a heartbeat, taking in the imagery that was Bill out of breath, face all red and little dots of tears adorning the corners of his eyes.

Beautiful was an understatement, but Robert had no other word to use, and all his thoughts trailed down when he was pulled to another kiss, tongues slipping together as their bodies aligned, Robert’s thigh pressing against Bill’s groin and created some welcomed relief to his hardening bulge.

They moaned in unison, hands groping and fighting with the clothing still covering their limbs, hurriedly stripping as the heat building in their insides grew.

So many nights had they imagined just this: the kissing, the touches, the heated stares, the tender whispers, the sweet nothings mumbled as they explored each other’s bodies, mapping and loving every little crevice and blemish that marked them.

Foreheads touching, labored breath mixing, Robert held them both in his large hand after applying a generous amount of lube, massaging their shafts and basking in the way Bill arched his back, mouth opening in quiet moans, so inviting that Robert couldn’t hold back and licked him.

“Feels good, little buddy?” He asked with a squeeze, Bill’s hips moving in an attempt of having more, feverishly looking for release. Noticing that, Robert slowed down the pace, resuming his gentle massage.

Teasing him was a wonder, Robert found out. All reactions Bill had were worthy of notice, especially when he grumbled in frustration and wrapped both arms around Robert’s neck, a frown growing in his face.

“Stop fucking around--” Bill was cut off mid sentence when Robert simply stopped moving his hand, smiling while Bill whined.

“Oh, like this?” He laughed softly before kissing Bill’s nose, holding their lengths once again and pumping, stimulating both with a quickening pace, cutting any remarks that Bill could have, replacing them with sweet moans.

They came almost together, writhing in pleasure, toes curling and mouths sealing a searing kiss, then another, calmer, and another, even more serene, as they came down from their high.

“It felt good,” Bill quietly said after a while, accepting and giving caresses, playing with Robert’s silky hair.

Laying there, enjoying the mutual proximity, the warmth irradiated by their entangled limbs, brought a sense of peace to both.

“Worth staying for?” Robert joked in a sleepy voice, feeling Bill’s breathless laugh.

As if he planned on leaving earlier than the accorded.

“I need to think about it,” Bill whispered mischievously , shrugging and then chuckling when Robert tickled his sides for a moment, stopping when their fingers were intertwined. “I’ll stay.”

* * *

And he did stay, more than the weekend and then more than an entire week, the days passing fast, feeling like mere hours as they fell into a routine, doing basically everything together.

Bill had no obligations of returning before the start of the semester, his last one, _finally_ , but as cozy and welcomed he felt, there was this small voice in the back of his head, saying how he was being thoroughly spoiled by Robert during this visit.

Sitting by the lake, bare feet diving in the cold water, Bill watched the trees in the distance as he tried to type the rest of his newest horror novel, only noticing he wasn’t alone when Robert was already sitting by his side, both using the dock to be surrounded by nature.

“Writing?” Robert briefly looked to Bill’s tablet, not meaning to spy.

“Yeah,” It was clue enough to make them both fall in silence, Robert not wanting to disturb Bill’s thought process, not aware that his companion’s mind was actually filled with many thoughts, but none were concerning his novel.

“I want to get published one day...” Bill whispered after long, quiet minutes. His tablet remained untouched, the screen darkening.

“You will,” Robert said with certainty, the wind blowing his hair, “Your work is the best, little one,” His voice was light, “I’ve already talked to some people too.”

This made Bill pause.

“What do you mean?”

Robert slightly shrugged.

“Some old friends,” He looked to Bill, a smug smile threatening to pull the corners of his lips, “Some big names.”

It took a few seconds before Bill fully grasped the implication.

“Rob--” He paused, trying to swallow part of his discomfort and anger that suddenly arose. He wasn’t a teenager anymore and could handle the situation calmly. Or so he hoped, “I want it to happen because of my own efforts.”

“And it will,” Robert said in a serene way, “The books won’t sprout out of thin air, right?” He raised an eyebrow playfully. This cut on Bill’s already diminishing patience.

“No, but this isn’t what I mean,” Bill said, frustration lacing his voice, “You keep s-spoiling me,” The words barely managed to pass through his mouth, his rising indignance fighting with his stuttering, “I don’t w-want--”

“Shh,” Robert silenced him with a sudden movement, holding Bill’s cheek and bringing their faces close together, “Fine, I get it,” If he was annoyed or not, Bill couldn’t tell, but the fact that Robert was conceding lifted a weight from his shoulders.

They stayed like this, foreheads touching, noses almost brushing.

“I’m not saying you don’t have talent nor ways of supporting yourself, little one,” Robert stroked a wild auburn lock, “Just...” He breathed, running his fingers near Bill’s ear, where he knew to be a sensitive spot, “Let me indulge you.”

Bill closed his eyes, feeling a chill raising up his spine.

“Please...” Robert begged, sounding so small, so pliant…

Bill felt cold lips pressing against the tip of his nose, cheeks and then mouth. His resolve began to crumble. Gentle fingers caressed his nape, massaging his skin and making him sigh softly.

Bill understood then that their wills would be clashing. He wanted what he and Robert had to work, but it was clear that someone needed to yield.

“Fine...” Bill whispered, opening his eyes to see Robert smiling, “But not all the time,” Establishing this boundary calmed down his hurt ego, and when Robert agreed, it felt like a victory.

* * *

A couple of days before his break was officially over, Bill gathered his belongings and departed from his now boyfriend’s house.

The trip by bus was indefinitely longer than by plane, but even if it pained Robert to have his offers of a quick, comfortable flight denied, Bill felt good with himself, using his own money and feeling independent, plus, the environment proved to be awesome for pictures.

He kept in touch with Robert as they had been before: through the internet.

Bill’s classes started and he found out that the longing he felt for Robert was only getting worse.

Texts, pictures, memories and gifts only quenched a part of his ache; apparently, the romances were right: a heart in love couldn’t be calmed down easily. It hurt, it soared with yearning and kept one’s mood gloomy or wistful.

In a twisted way, knowing that Robert was also suffering from this sickness calmed Bill a little, even validated his feelings. He wasn’t alone, he wasn’t loving alone.

Robert kept suggesting quick trips during some off weekend, but his busy schedule never allowed it, and so, video calls were the closest they got.

Right before bed and in pockets of free time, seeing and hearing each other came as both a relief and a pang to their chest.  
During holidays and otherwise important dates, Robert always sent presents and little messages, just like Bill, who had to settle with less expensive things and instead relied more on writing his feelings.

I miss you.

I _love_ you.

And so, with Bill’s collection of handwritten cards growing, the end of his term approached, and with it, his graduation.

* * *

He had no one to invite, not really.

His family turned their back on him a long time ago and his childhood friends had moved on and out. Bill had no way of contacting them and it would have struck as a desperate move if he did so.

To some, it would be lonely and even sad to have such a big celebration pass blankly like that, with no one to watch, applaud and be happy with, and that did hold truth, but instead of sulking, Bill tried to stand proud, fully aware that this was the payoff for all his efforts.

He was finally graduating, awful teachers and classmates be damned. He now could write all the things he had always liked without fearing a bad grade.

Robert had sent him countless messages, ranging from congratulatory to sorrowful, lamenting how he would be missing Bill’s ceremony.

Trying to not be bothered by it, Bill simply cleaned his mind and waited until everything was over, throwing his cap as far away as he could, some tears staining his cheeks as he felt a wave of different emotions washing over him. Freedom tasted sweet, but also bittersweet.

The crying returned when he spotted Robert, though. The tall man was leaning against a wall just outside the gymnasium, sporting a smile that was equally gorgeous and wicked.

“You a-asshole-!” Bill exclaimed seconds before hugging him, hiding his face in Robert’s expensive suit, willing himself to not weep anymore.

Robert laughed, trapping the smaller one between his arms.

“Surprise,” He singsonged, giving all the time Bill needed to gather himself, smiling softly when their eyes met once again, “I’d never miss this, little buddy. Never.”

Robert’s fingers in Bill’s hair were comforting and his sole presence was reassuring, a silent reassurance that Bill truly wasn’t alone.

They shared a tender kiss before the older man suggested they leave, guiding them to his parked car.

“Where to?” Robert asked jovially, tapping his fingers against the wheel a couple of times while eyeing his companion. “It’s your day, just name the place.”

And after thinking for some seconds, buckling the safety belt, Bill thought about the perfect place.

* * *

The park wasn’t packed with people, which was a good sign and made their journey of finding a free table near the local food stands easier.

Their formal attire made them stand out, but that didn’t seem to be the reason Robert looked somewhat bothered.

“What is it?” Bill asked, watching the other smile ruefully before shaking his head slightly.

“I just imagined this would be in a more private place, but I don’t want to waste any more time, little one,” His smile was genuine when he got up. “Wait for me.”

Bill had no other option than to watch his boyfriend leave the table, hurrying somewhere he couldn’t see.

The food they previously ordered arrived and still, Bill had no clue where Robert was.

A few minutes later he spotted the man, though, flowers filling his hands and an affable expression adorning his face.

He took a small box from his pocket after handing Bill the bouquet, a note accompanying it.

Curiously, Bill set the delicate roses aside and read Robert’s elegant handwriting, a dumbfounded look showing as he realized those weren’t exactly gifts for his graduation.

He hadn’t been meaning to cry once again, but his eyes filled with tears as he accepted Robert’s embrace, uttering a tearful and happy:

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know your thoughts!//

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! <3


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